


Miscommunication

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Baker Street Polyamory [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, John/Sherlock/Mycroft Established Relationship, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Rimming, Sex Toys, Threesome - M/M/M, holmescest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:51:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3906892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night between John, Sherlock, and Mycroft after John walks in to find the brother's arguing, so he reminds them of the flat's rule and the three spend the rest of the night in the bedroom</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miscommunication

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NoOrdinarySouthernGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOrdinarySouthernGirl/gifts), [Amythe3lder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amythe3lder/gifts).



> This takes place somewhere in between Against the Wall and Baker Street Polyamory
> 
> It came about because of a conversation I had with a few friends after being tagged for [this ](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/post/118425567163/noordinarysoutherngirl-jaimistoryteller#notes) gift set (where you can also find the story under the 'read more' bar)
> 
> Tumblr about my stories: [ JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Thank you for any form of communication, I love it and it keeps me writing!

John’s POV  
He had stepped into the flat to find his genius at each other’s throats. Literally. It had only taken moments for him to understand the problem. Apparently his auburn-haired genius was requesting that his dark-haired genius stop completing a job he was on. Something about how it was not a good idea due to national security which had the younger growling and slamming his brother against the wall, pinning one arm behind his elder brother as he does so.

“Mycroft, do not say another word,” he ordered, his voice lowering to the one used when dealing with his loves.

Both of them freeze, the elder’s eyes shutting, and the younger’s dilating nearly instantly.

“He could snap you in two,” he continued keeping his tone the same and watching his boys’ reaction, “and right now I am slightly worried he might.”

Still both held still, waiting for whatever he was going to say next.

“What is the rule about physical violence?” His tone remained the same, and to an outsider it would seem soft, maybe even gentle despite the hint of command in it.

Neither answered, their breathing becoming just a bit shallower instead.

“Do I need to remind you of the first rule,” those his words are a question he is not asking.

Both brothers flinch before reciting, “Use words not actions, all answers must be out loud to avoid misunderstanding.”

“Correct, now what is wrong with the scene before me?”

Eyes still shut the elder answered, “I’m pinned against a wall in violence not because we are working out the conflict.”

Nearly as soon as the elder is done, the younger responds, “You are not happy with me considering breaking my brother or using violence instead of sex or waiting for you.”

“Very good,” he replied, keeping his tone even, “Release your brother’s arm then fetch me both kits”

Slowly the dark-haired genius does as directed, while the auburn-haired one simply turns to face him. Without speaking, he shuts and locks the front door, before moving to stand just in front of the thick rug in the living room. As soon as the younger brother has returned he begins speaking again in the same tone he has been using.

“Strip and present yourselves here,” this is not his normal way of dealing with his geniuses but sometimes they needed a slightly firm guidance.

He can see the signs of nervousness with both. In the auburn-haired genius it is in the stillness that he forced on himself. While in the dark-haired genius it s the tremble he cannot stop. Carefully both remove their clothing, folding them and setting them on the table next to his chair. Once they are equally bare, they move simultaneously to stand before him before each drops to his knees. Their kits in each of their right hands.

“What am I to do with you?” he murmured as he steps between the brothers  and settles a hand on top each of their heads. “If I thought spanking you would do the trick I would give it a try, sadly Sherlock would enjoy it too much, and Mycroft would not tolerate it well enough for it to work.”

Slowly, he circles first the dark-haired brother, then the auburn-haired brother. His fingers just barely ghost over their shoulders and backs,

“Which of you began this situation?”

Sherlock’s head drops slightly as he answered quietly, “I did.”

“Explain yourself,” he directed as he takes up standing directly behind him, his hands resting lightly on the taller man’s shoulders. Since his return the dark-haired brother tended to hate having someone behind him whenever it could be avoided.

“I was hired to find a way to topple a media mogul, so far I have not found one but have drawn attention to myself,” the youngest of their number answered, voice a cross between resentful and remorseful.

He wants to sigh, really he does, but sighing just done not seem like the right thing in this situation. Keeping his tone even, still using the hint of command his lovers refer to as his Captain voice, he inquired, “Is that all?” his hands are still merely resting on his dark-haired lover’s shoulders.

“No, I intentionally picked a fight with Mycroft on the subject rather than actually discussing it,” the boffin’s voice is low, would have been hard to hear if not for the quietness of the flat.

Smiling even though he knows his lover cannot see it, he starts using his thumbs to rub the back of his shoulders and base of his neck as a bit of a reward for answering.

“Myt, why did you allow it?” he inquired as he shifts his stance so he is just on the edge of the politician’s vision, his tone the same as when he had questioned the younger brother.

Flushing the older man responded, “I reacted out of habit.”

Reaching over, he runs a hand gently down the genius’ cheek, happy he answered without further prompting.

“That sort of behavior is not allowed, as you both know,” both brothers nod, a slight blush staining the older’s skin while the younger sways towards him slightly. “However, I take partial responsibility for not taking care of my loves the last three weeks due to the chaos at work.”

For a long moment he is silent as he circles his geniuses once more, carefully studying their posture and the sort of mood they are in. Both are quickly entering that relaxed obedient phase where he has to use little of his captain’s tone to make them obey. Apparently they both need this.

“Myt, love, you are to drink a juice, cleanse yourself, then go lay spread on the bed, you may not touch yourself, however you may tuck a pillow under your back,” he directed the auburn-haired politician, pausing to gently stroke his face between his hands for a moment.

“Yes John,” the politician replied but stays still, waiting to be formally dismissed or for his brother to get directions.

Smilingly warmly at the politician he leans down slightly to press his lips to his forehead, “Go,” he murmured.

Nodding, the auburn-haired man does so, standing slowly before taking the small black bag with him in the room and leaving his clothing where they lay.

Turning his attention to the dark-haired boffin, he steps back in front of him, hands gently skimming down his face, “Tell me why you have made a wrong choice.” There is no questioning in his tone, merely command.

Swaying slightly, his dark-haired love is slow to speaks, “I wanted the attention without asking. I willingly broke one of the only rules between us, communication.”

There is a great deal of emotion in his younger lover’s voice, and rather than immediately respond he takes the time to figure out what each of those emotions are. The most dominate is regret, however there is also frustration, anger, sadness, and worry there too.

His eyes sweep up and down the tall man’s slender form, before he directed, “Arms out palms flat up.”

Setting the small black bag with his kit by his knee, the boffin does as directed, though there is hesitation.

Using only the tips of his fingers he carefully traces the veins, making sure that there are no punctures or breaks, insuring that his dark-haired love had not done something incredibly foolish. His fingers continue upwards, grazing over his shoulders and collarbones before continuing up his throat, putting just the slightest pressure on the underside of his jaw to tilt it back a bit before continuing his gentle checking that there is no residue or after effect of drugs anywhere on his love.

Only once had the boffin been foolish enough to use drugs since his return, and his response to that action had been rather harsh. He had spent hours taking him a part, the tall man bound to the bed so he could do nothing to fight him except beg, and beg he did before the night was done. Not that it had done any good. It was only in the wee hours of the morning he had finally found Sherlock’s breaking point, and pushed him past it before proceeding to bring him back slowly. All in all they had spent nearly sixteen hours in the room that night but it was worth the exhaustion because the nightmares seemed to slow, and his lover had seemed to finally understand just a bit better.

When he was nod, he smiled at the dark-haired genius staring at him through hazy, heavy lidded eyes. “I am proud of you Sherlock.” He informed the younger man.

He can feel the tension lessen with that statement, not quite leaving him, but no longer as focused.

“Do you know why love?” he in8quires as he continues to caress his face and upper body with barely there touches.

“Because I did not do drugs,” the younger man answered before babbling, “I promise I wouldn’t! You have to believe I wouldn’t! I might fight with Mycroft but I will not let you down like that again!”

“Shhhhhh, calm Sherlock, calm,” he murmured reassuringly, changing his touch from feathery and flirty to reassuring, understanding exactly where this is coming from. “I had to check love. You sometimes do things without thinking.”

His touch remains reassuring for the next several minutes before he feels the tension lessen once more. Slowly, he turns his touch from reassuring to arousing, teasing the younger man until the glaze look has fully taken over his eyes.

“As punishment for your actions you will wear the cock cage for the next two hours,” he announced eventually as the taller man’s prick begins to respond to his touch.

Pale eyes widen as the dark-haired man nods slowly, accepting the punishment for breaking the most important house rule, “Yes John,” his voice is soft and a bit needy.

Glancing at the clock on the wall he directs as the hour changes, “You may put it on now. Then go drink the juice, cleanse yourself, and proceed to the bedroom to kneel at your brother’s feet.”

Flushing the younger man waits until he nods before lifting his small black bag and opening it, after sorting through it, he pulls out the black silicon cock cage out and carefully slid it on with sure focus on his face. Once it is in place he selects one of the rings to lock at the base, ensuring that the cage will not move.

“Go,” he softly ordered the younger man, watching as he rises gracefully to his feet and heads into the kitchen first, his normal swagger just about gone for the moment.

He does not continue to watch after that, knowing that both his boys would have followed their instructions. Sometimes they liked to push the limits but not when they knew they were already in trouble. Chuckling softly to himself, he cleans up the room a bit, straightening the things out that his loves made a mess of during their little spat before making tea to take into the other room. He selects a brand that he knows is good both hot and cold because he is also sure it will be a bit before his boys drink theirs.

In the bedroom he doesn’t even look at the two geniuses directly, instead he glances at them out of the corner of his eye, confirming they are where they should be as he settled the tray with the cups on the small table. Still not looking at his boys directly, he pulls the lube out, followed by the warming oil and sets both on the table as well. Smiling lightly he  to the front room, turning off all of the lights and making sure the door is locked before using the bathroom, and returning to the room. Upon entering, he closes the door before turning to lean against it while his eyes sweep over the pair.

As he directed Mycroft is laying sprawled on the bed. With the sex pillow tucked beneath his hips and lower back, elevating his lush backside for easy access. His pale body is gleaming in the low light of the nightstand lamp. While he stays still, his eyes are slightly closed but silted just enough to observe his brother.

Sherlock is also doing as he was told, his slender body kneeling at the foot of the bed so that he may observe his brother. After all the time they have spent together, the younger man had perfect form, back straight, hands resting on his knees, legs spread wide enough for balance but not so wide he looks wanton.

“The both of you look perfect,” he informs them as he moves away from the wall and towards them.

Neither of them move or respond except for a brief flicker of their eyes in his direction.

Slightly smiling, he slowly strips off his clothing now that he is closer to the edge of the bed. Each article is folded and set to the side before he moves on to the next. Once he is completely bare he settles on the edge of the bed, reaching over to run one hand down the auburn-haired genius’ torso, enjoying the smooth texture beneath his finger tips and the feel of the slight tremble that never failed to make him smile.

Several minutes pass in silence as he continues to pet the older man, just allowing him to relax with nothing sexual in the touch at all.

Reaching over, he grabs the warming oil and passes it to the younger brother, “Massage your brothers legs and feet,” he directed the younger man, while his touch remains rather gentle and comforting.

“Yes John,” the dark-haired genius murmured as he accepts the bottle of oil and pours a little bit on his hands before capping the bottle and setting it aside.

Under his watchful eyes, the dark-haired brother starts on the auburn-haired brother’s right foot. His thumbs carefully rubbing the tension out of every inch of the bottom before slowly working his way up to the top, then the ankle, at the ankle he switches to the left foot to repeat the process only he doesn’t stop at the ankle, choosing to work his way up the calf and shin before flipping again. Upon reaching his brother’s knees, the dark-haired genius works his way backwards and down to his feet once more. After applying just a little more oil to his hands, the tall man starts on the knees before working his way up the top part of each leg before working his way back down to the knees once more.

Once he is completely done with his brother’s legs, the younger brother returns to his place kneeling at his brother’s feet.

He smiles at this, praising him softly, “Excellent Sherlock, you may now do his torso but do not touch his hole or cock.”

The auburn-haired brother moans softly when his brother rubs the oil into the junction of leg and body before he begins to work his way upwards.

Still he continues to gently stroke, the older man’s body, only shifting where he is stroking to not be in the way. When Sherlock gets to the point where he needs his brother’s back, he gently helps the tall man to roll without saying a word. Slowly the younger man rubs every inch of his brother’s back and spine, long talented fingers working each muscle carefully.

He is enamored of the soft little noises that escape the politician.

After he has completed rubbing his brother’s upper body, the slender man sets the oil back on the table before returning to the kneeling position.

“Are you still awake Myt?” he inquired as he leans down and runs the tip of his tongue along the shell of his ear.

Groaning, the politician answered, “Yes John,” but his voice is low, almost too quiet to hear.

Glancing at the boffin, he directed him, “Rim your brother.”

Flushing, the taller man nods and scoots closer, “Yes John,” before carefully pulling his brother’s ass cheeks a part and leaning in to run the flat of his tongue down it.

Gently stroking the elder brother’s head, he watches as both react, Mycroft growing hard against the pillow keeping his ass in the air and making little noises of need. While Sherlock merely makes needy sounds, his butt wiggling slightly.

“Hgnmmmmmm,” the auburn-haired man groaned, shoving his head against his leg, “Sher-lock!”

Grinning, the tall man pauses for just a moment before going back to lick and lapping at his brother’s hole.

When both are heavy and panting, he checks the clock, noting that it has been nearly two hours.

“Prepare him,” he directed the dark-haired man before leaning back down to whisper in the elder brother’s ear, “Would you like that love? To get pounded into the bed until both of your frustrations have been worked out? To have him buried to the hilt in you?”

“Gnmmmn,” the older man respond, hissing, “Yes, please, please!”

“Soon, love, soon,” he murmured as he glances at the younger who has coated his fingers with lube and is carefully yet diligently works his brothers entrance open. He knows the younger man is not hitting the sweet spot because otherwise the elder would be making even more noises than he currently is.

He keeps a careful eye on the clock, and enjoys the sounds of his lovers make together, sounds of need, sounds of enjoyment, sounds of Sherlock’s fingers and tongue working his brother open. As soon as the clock hits the two hour mark, he changes positioning so he is closer to the dark-haired genius.

“Sit up Sherlock,” he directed softly, the slight edge that had been in his voice gone.

Carefully but quickly the slender man does as directed, settling back into his spot.

Silently, he helps the older brother roll back on his back, kissing him slowly for a moment and enjoying the low moan it elicits.

Sitting up, he reaches over and unhooks the cock ring before carefully taking the cock cage off. As soon as it has been removed, his younger lover fills out the rest of the way gasping and his back arched slightly.

Shifting so he is beside the brothers, he leans closer to the dark-haired one and murmured, ”Fuck your brother Sherlock, nice and slow at first but building up.”

Groaning softly, the younger man nods, shifting into position between his brother’s legs. As he watched, the dark-haired brother lifted his brother’s legs and shifted his thick prick against his brother’s awaiting hole before slowly sliding in.

For a long while he merely watched and slowly stroked himself as he enjoys the show. Both brothers are moving together in a rather easily developed rhythm which speaks of their shared history, both are nearly panting in need, along with all the other glorious sounds they are making.

“Jawn,” the dark-haired genius gasped.

“Yes love?” he replied softly.

“I feel empty,” the taller man groaned, “please.”

“Would you like something in your hot mouth or tight, plush ass?” he inquired as he scoots closer, the lube already in his hand.

Both brother’s answered, “Ass.” The elder’s voice is a low moan, the younger’s voice a keen.

Smirking, because he knew that was going to be the answer, he moves to kneel behind the slender man, drizzling some of the lube down the crack of his arse before coating his fingers in it. From there he goes to slowly rubbing each plump cheek, before working his way inwards to that tight little hole. Using just one finger he takes his time teasing it, not trying to press in, just enjoying toying with it while the dark-haired genius continues to slowly fuck his brother. When he can feel the boffin trembling, he presses just the tip of his finger in, enjoying the long moan that escapes his lover. Several minutes pass with him simply using one finger to continue the teasing. Eventually he adds a second finger, slowly tormenting him with the both of them working him open, rubbing and stretching the tight little hole.

When he adds his third finger, intentionally dragging it across his lover’s prostate the younger brother begs for more, a rather enjoyable thing for him to listen to.

After a long while of teasing, he uses one hand to coat his cock before lining it up and sliding just the tip of it in the dark-haired genius’ ass. As Sherlock pulls out of his brother, he impales himself on him and gripping the younger mans hips, he makes sure he continues to slide back and forth, enjoying the friction. For a very long while they continue that pattern until he decides he wishes to pound him a bit harder.

Shifting forward a bit, he uses his hands to lift Myt’s legs around them, before nearly pressing the youngest of their number forward. Smirking, he starts to actually thrust, causing the dark-haired genius to lose his rhythm but both brothers to groan as he slams hard into Sherlock’s prostate, pushing him hard into his brother. From there their speed picks up and what started as slow and leasurily turns into something a bit more. Within minutes both brothers are gasping from the pounding of their prostates.

“Jack Myt off,” he ordered the youngest as he continues to pound him.

Groaning, he feels a hand slip between the brothers by the slight changing of their positioning.

Moments later the auburn-haired brother is crying out as he spills himself between their bodies. Holding the dark-haired brother still for a moment, he slams into him hard once before setting to rotating his hips instead so he never loses contact with that delicate set of nerves, enjoying the long moan that escapes is cupid-bow lips before the dark-haired genius finds his release from being over worked. Just seconds after that he is coming as the boffin’s hole squeezes him tight, causing him to come in his ass with his own moan.

For a few minutes the three of them hold still before he slowly pulls out, leaving the brothers intertwined while he fetches a warm bowl of water and some flannels. Returning to the room, he carefully separates them before cleaning them up and tucking them in since both are drowsing. After putting the stuff of the box at the foot of the bed, he joins his geniuses, tucking on arm across Mycroft’s waist so he can gently grip Sherlock’s on the other side.

“John?” Myt murmured sleepily.

“Yes love?” he replied kissing his forehead.

“Can the three of us have a together day tomorrow?” the auburn-haired genius inquired.

Smiling, he strokes the short auburn hair as he answers, “Of course, besides the one case there are no others going on, if I am not mistaken tomorrow is your day off. Now rest,” he prompted him, kissing his forehead one more time before leaning slightly over him to kiss the others forehead as well.

“’G’night Jawn,” mumbled the dark-haired genius as he snuggles against his brothers back and falls asleep.

“Sleep well loves,” he told both before burrowing in to sleep himself.


End file.
